


Book of Russia

by AfterimAJe



Category: Anastasia (1997), Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Alternate Universe - 1920s, But am probably still historically inaccurate, Crossover, Demons, F/M, How Do I Tag, I did some research, I hope, My First Fanfic, Mystery, i hope I'm doing this right, yes plural
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-03
Updated: 2020-10-11
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:00:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26259052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AfterimAJe/pseuds/AfterimAJe
Summary: In 1926, ten years after the Russian revolution, rumors begin to circulate that the former Czar's youngest daughter, Anastasia, may still be alive. King George V of London sends his Guard-dog, Earl Ciel Phantomhive, to investigate, and, if possible, find and reunite his cousin Princess Alix's daughter with her grandmother in Paris. But when there proves to be more to this story than it at first seemed, will Ciel and his butler Sebastian be able to solve the mystery of the Romanov curse and protect the young princess?
Relationships: Anya | Anastasia Romanov / Dimitri, Sebastian Michaelis & Ciel Phantomhive
Kudos: 6





	1. A Rumor in St. Petersburg

**Author's Note:**

> For some reason this idea came to me one night and just will not go away, so I guess I'm writing it now. This has been proofread by no one but me and spellcheck, so constructive feedback is welcome. Seeing as this is my first fanfic and I am also currently in school, please be patient with me.

_Young Lad,_

_As of late, I find myself thinking back on events that took place about ten years ago. You are certainly too young to remember back then, when a whole mess of things began to take place over in the vast country of Russia. At the time, my cousin, the Princess Alix, was the wife of the Czar, Nicholas II. They had quite a lovely family: four girls and a boy. If memory serves, the lad would be about your age now if that awful night had never occurred. I thought all of them gone forever, and though I stand by my decision not to become involved in their political troubles (a decision I have heard no small amount of criticism for), I can't help but feel regret at the loss of their lives, even still._

_The reason these thoughts have surfaced for me again can be credited to some rumors I have given ear to recently. It has been circulating that the youngest daughter of my dear cousin, the Princess Anastasia Romanov, may yet be alive. It would bring me much peace if I were to hear of my niece reunited with her last remaining family, her grandmother, the Dowager Empress Maria Feodorovna, who currently resides in Paris. If at all possible, I would like for you to see that this happens. Surely, knowing what it is like to lose one's family, such a miracle would bring a measure of joy to your heart just as it would mine._

_~ George_

Ciel read the King's message over again from a private box in a train on its way to St. Petersburg. This was the earl's second consecutive day spent entirely on board the locomotive, and he was beginning to find it rather boring.

He returned the letter to its envelope and in turn picked up a small red folder embossed with gold lettering. A week ago, the letter had been delivered to his manor along with two visas granting entrance to and exit from Russia - one for the earl, and one for…

"Ah, it seems his majesty knows you well, My Lord," said a silky, mocking voice from over Ciel's shoulder.

"Tch. Shouldn't you be making me tea right now?" the earl snapped testily at his much too nosy butler.

"Of course, My Lord, at once," the man replied, not the least bit effected by his master's poor attitude. A tall figure with dark hair and a black tailcoat elegantly glided his way past the young earl's desk and towards the door. Ciel snatched up the second visa bearing the name "Michaelis, Sebastian" and threw it as hard as he could at the back of his butler's head. The man caught it effortlessly over his shoulder right as he opened the door. He then turned his head to smile slightly at the earl before continuing out and closing the door behind him.

A knock sounded on the door, not the door to Ciel's office, but to his small room on the train.

The door slid open to reveal the butler, Sebastian; tall, thin, and pale with pitch black hair and eyes such a warm brown that they were almost red. He entered the room with a slight bow, one white-gloved hand over his chest, and in the other he balanced a small china saucer bearing a matching teacup. "Young Master, I have brought you some tea from the dining car."

Ciel wordlessly took the plate and cup as they were presented to him, then sipped lightly on the beverage while he gazed out the window at the snowy fields streaking by. "Ugh, yet another thing I hate about traveling. This tea is so substandard," the boy grumbled.

"If you’d prefer, My Lord, I could always-" Ciel turned to find Sebastian holding a silver tray bearing a full tea set that had not been there mere seconds ago. "Sebastian, I've told you not to-"

"There is no one else here, My Lord, and you were just lamenting about the poor quality of the tea That is offered here. What kind of a butler would I be if I did nothing to amend the situation?" he asked with a mischievous grin.

The young earl glowered at his butler, but, after only a few seconds, gave in. "Fine," he said, turning his head back to the window sharply. His reflection in the windowpane stared back at him: a boy, barely over thirteen, dressed in a fitted, double breasted, light grey, pinstriped suit with a navy blue tie and matching pocket square. His blue-black hair fell into his face from under a dark grey top hat encircled by a navy blue ribbon. The single eye in the reflection was large and blue, and though the other was covered by a black eye-patch, Ciel knew that underneath it the eye was a glowing violet, etched with the symbol that sealed his contract with the demon currently pouring his tea.

********

Early in the morning on the third day of their journey, the train stopped for the last time before it would finally reach the station in St. Petersburg. Due to an unpredictable consequence of the weather - namely a rather large snowdrift built up over the tracks directly ahead - the train would remain stopped for at least another hour or two. The Young Master did not take kindly to this information given what Sebastian believed humans called "cabin fever" after nearing on three days in a train with nothing to do but study Russian and no one for company but a demon. Instead of deigning to wait a minute more than necessary aboard the locomotive, the Young Lord ordered Sebastian to secure them alternative transportation to the city by purchasing the first automobile he could find. Unfortunately for his master, the automobile that was obtained by following his explicit order was not of the highest quality, and the engine died merely half-way to their destination.

"Worthless piece of junk!" the Earl growled, grabbing his silver-handled black walking stick and dismounting from the dated automobile. "You couldn't have checked whether the vehicle was in working order before purchasing it, Sebastian?"

The demon smiled, "My Lord's instructions were merely to obtain the first automobile I could find."

"Ugh," his young master huffed, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration, "now we shall have to walk the rest of the way to St. Petersburg. And in the snow, no less."

It had indeed begun to snow. Large flakes flurried down from the overcast sky, adding slowly to the already two-to-three-inch-thick carpet below their feet. The demon frowned slightly, grasping his chin between his fingers as he thought. While he himself took no ill effect from the weather, and his master was wearing a long, dark brown, woolen overcoat, it was considerably colder now than it ever was during wintertime in London. The fine wingtip shoes his master wore were not exactly meant for walking through the snow for long periods of time either.

"What?" the Young Master asked irritably, noticing his butler inspecting him.

"I am afraid you will catch cold, My Lord. Your attire is not meant for such-"

"I'm fine, Sebastian," the earl asserted. "Now, hurry up and get my luggage so we can start walking. I have no time to waste standing about in the snow."

"Yes, My Lord," the demon replied, and obediently took his master's bags from the car before falling into step behind him.


	2. Down This Road

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Ciel and Sebastian, now on foot, head toward St. Petersburg, they run into the Russian girl Anya who's starting out on her own journey.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is turning out to be harder than I expected, so this chapter's a little short. I have so much more planned for later, but getting all the characters together... But I figured it's better to post what I have than wait however many months longer before I have a perfect, full-length chapter.

It was hard to tell the time in the white-blanketed silence of a snowfall. However, Ciel did not think it had been more than twenty minutes when he and his butler crested a hill to find a girl yelling to the sky in Russian at a fork in the road. He'd only had a week to study the language, but he thought he heard her saying something about a "sign"?

The Earl cleared his throat loudly to get her attention. She whirled to face the duo. Her face was young, and Ciel surmised that she was probably in her late teens. Her auburn hair was pulled up under a black newsboy cap, the mustard yellow tunic and olive green coat that she wore were too large for her and hung loosely on her thin frame, but the black pants and brown lace-up boots fit marginally better. This already colorful outfit was accented with purple fingerless gloves and a matching purple scarf that hung from her right coat pocket.

"Excuse us, miss," Ciel addressed the girl in his best Russian, though he saw Sebastian cringe at his pronunciation out of the corner of his eye, "are you lost?"

The girl stared blankly at them for a moment, no doubt taking in the sight of an obvious foreigner attempting to speak her language. "Uh… no," she finally managed. "No, I know exactly where I am."

"Good," Ciel said, walking forward again, "then you can tell way to St. Petersburg?"

The girl blinked in surprise then grinned broadly, "St. Petersburg? That's actually where I'm headed. We can go together!"

The boy was rather taken aback by the girl's enthusiasm, but he managed to sputter, "Erm… yes. Why not?"

*****

Anya couldn't believe the odds. It was obvious to her that this kid must be the sign she had asked for, and it was telling her to go to St. Petersburg.

"I'm Anya," she introduced herself to the boy, holding out her hand.

"Earl Ciel Phantomhive," he replied, taking her hand and shaking it firmly.

"And, uh, who's the guy in black?" Anya inquired, lowering her voice to a mock whisper. Something about the man was slightly off-putting.

"My butler, Sebastian," Ciel supplied.

"A pleasure, miss," the butler said with a bow in her direction. His Russian was far better than his master's.

"Um, likewise," she responded with an awkward attempt at a courtesy. While the boy, Ciel, had a heavy coat on, the butler, Sebastian, only had a dressy tailcoat. Wasn't he freezing? An idea sparked in her head, and Anya reached down to her coat pocket, pulling out a purple scarf.

"Hey," she addressed Sebastian, "you must be cold. Take this" she held the scarf towards him.

The tall man blinked down at her, seemingly surprised. "I-"

Before he could protest, Anya lobbed the scarf in his direction. He caught it without so much as a flinch, then sighed in defeat and wrapped it loosely around his neck.

"St. Petersburg is this way," she said with a gesture over her shoulder. Then she turned to face the road. A small breeze blew past from behind her, seeming to prompt her onward.

This was it.

She mustered her courage and took the first step on her journey.

*****

The girl, Anya, led the way down the road toward St. Petersburg. She seemed almost giddy, skipping and twirling through the snow as if no one were watching. Ciel thought he could hear her humming to herself sometimes, too. Much to his chagrin, she would also frequently attempt to engage in conversation.

"So, why are you going to St. Petersburg?"

"Business," Ciel stated bluntly.

"Your parents send you out on 'business'?"

"I don’t have parents," he responded without emotion.

"Oh..." Anya trailed off, her pace slowing. "Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't mean... I don't have parents either." Ciel finally turned to face her, finding her fiddling with a long, gold chain around her neck. "I just left the orphanage this morning. I'm going to St. Petersburg so I can get to Paris. I think... I hope I'll find my family there. That I'll find my home..." she drifted off into thought.

And Ciel hoped she'd stay that way. He couldn't care less about this random Russian girl's life story, and he certainly wasn't going to share his own.


End file.
